horizontal tariff for our copper and lumber and wheat and wool, and then if “your clocks will not run, let them stop.” His picture of the suffering of the miners following the closing of the mines no doubt won many to the measure. It was because of that, said Mr. Morrill, that he should vote for it, though he believed it would help speculation in copper stocks more than the suffering miners of Michigan, and that it was a blow to ship-building and commerce. Would it not be better, suggested Mr. Grimes of Iowa, to organize a branch of the Freedman’s Bureau and send it to Michigan to take care of the miners? The bill finally passed and by large majorities, and in February, 1869, went to President Johnson. Whatever the influences which had induced Johnson to sign a bill which must have been so repugnant to him as the wool bill, there was little chance that they would have any effect upon him now. His term was almost over. In a few days he was to yield the White House to “that little fellow Grant,” as he called him, and go back to his Tennessee home to hoe potatoes and discuss politics with his neighbors in his son-in-law’s village store. He was going out in a sense victorious, for he had not been convicted, and his arch-enemy Stevens was dead, and yet it is doubtful if the end of his terrific fight with Congress gave him much happiness, if indeed anything could give him real happiness. Certainly Johnson suffered throughout his four years as President as few people at the time realized. One of his secretaries once said that in the two years he was with him in the White House he never saw him smile but once. Ill himself, his beloved wife a bed-ridden invalid, unfitted for companionship, suspicious of his associates, narrow in mind, bitter and resentful in heart, there was little reason indeed why Andrew Johnson should smile. Yet unquestionably he got a grim pleasure from his vetoes, even out of his impeachment trial. He believed he would be convicted, and his secretary tells of the satisfaction he got from the idea that his persecutors would all come to bad ends. He learned Addison’s Cato by heart, and went about the White House rooms delivering it. He studied the trial of Charles I of England, and ordered the names of those who signed the death warrant and the terrible ends to which they all came tabulated. His secretary says he believes Johnson was not a little disappointed when he was acquitted. It took from him the bitterest of the many bitter cuds he incessantly chewed.